


It's Time

by Starryar (Breadmione)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Best Friends, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Malfoy Manor (Harry Potter), Mental Anguish, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Strangers, best friends to strangers, fuck that hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:35:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29788584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breadmione/pseuds/Starryar
Summary: It's been three years since the war has ended, but people are just starting to heal. People, like Hermione Granger.Ginny is patient with her, and is always there. They're the best of friends, until the very end.Right?
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Ginny Weasley
Comments: 16
Kudos: 20
Collections: You're My Best Friend





	It's Time

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [DA_Friendship](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DA_Friendship) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Best friends to strangers  
> \-------------------------  
> A very merry thank you to my beta who shall not be named (for now.)  
> And a very berry thank you to WolfSquish for hosting <3

Hermione sat in front of the mirror after putting the flaming crown on to her head. She turned her face to the left, then to the right.

“It’s perfect.” Ginny said grinning from ear to ear.

“Gin…” Hermione met her friends' blue eyes in the mirror. “Do I have to go?”

Ginny’s expression softened as she became serious. “Yes. You promised you would address what had happened when the time came.”

Hermione placed her right hand over her covered left forearm. It had been just over three years since Bellatrix had carved ‘Mudblood’ into her arm, but the skin still puckered as if only weeks old. A permanent side effect of a cursed blade, the healers had said.

“Can you name a better time to go? Or shall we wait for the bloody Malfoys to throw another Halloween ball next year?”

“It’s a gala.” It was a knee jerk reaction to correct her friend, but Ginny dismissed it.

“What it  _ is _ ,” Ginny emphasized as she hugged Hermione’s shoulders. “Is an opportunity for you to get closure. Everyone there will be distracted with food and entertainment the Malfoys paid a pretty galleon for.”

Ginny’s flower crown both clashed and complemented Hermione’s burning one. They would be appearing as Hades and Persephone tonight. Hermione had joked she looked like Sauron from The Lord of the Rings was attending a funeral, while Ginny looked like an angel in her tulle, blush dress.

_ “That’s the point,” was her only reply before she moved the conversation along to their accessories. _

“Plus,” Ginny said, stopping Hermione from getting caught up in her own thoughts - something that happened way too often after the war. “I’ll be there for support.” Ginny smiled before she put her hands on her hips in typical Molly Weasley fashion. “Now, let’s fucking go. There’s a Manor I want to see.”

* * *

The Manor was just as daunting as it was the last time she was here. Hermione reminded herself that it meant  _ something  _ that she was willingly walking up to the forbidding double doors rather than being dragged in by her hair. Hermione raised her loosely closed fist, but the door swung open before it could make contact. 

“Miss Granger,” Narcissa greeted. Before the matron could hide it, Hermione saw a glimpse of fear in her eyes. “So wonderful of you to have made it.” She stepped to the side, but Hermione didn’t move. Her feet wouldn’t give.

Ginny had no problem. She had already entered the Manor, leaving Hermione to just catch sight of her dress in the entrance mirrors as she rounded the corner. Then, as if she remembered that Hermione had yet to follow her, she turned around to tease her in the mirror. “Let’s go,” she mouthed, throwing a thumb over her shoulder.

“It was very kind of you to invite me,” Hermione said briskly as she crossed into the threshold, quickly making her way to catch up with her anchor.

Or at least she tried. Hermione was being stopped at every possible moment by old classmates and Ministry coworkers. She engaged in polite conversation as best as she could before she would find an excuse to look for Ginny. ‘ _ She knows I can’t do this, where did she go? _ ’ 

Hermione could feel white, hot panic start to creep up her neck. Aside from the crown of blue flames floating above her head, it didn’t help that she was covered from the neck down in heavy, regal leathers. The velvet cape strapped to her padded shoulders tangled viciously behind her as she walked the edge of the ballroom, looking for her companion, but the heat had Hermione place the chase on pause to grab a refreshment.

Much to her relief  _ and  _ annoyance, Hermione found Ginny at the same refreshments table she approached, making faces in the elven wine bowl. “So you ditched me for wine?” Hermione made a face into the blue drink and Ginny laughed.

“It’s a party, Hermione! Loosen up.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, but it was only to hide how anxious she really felt. 

“Is it midnight yet? I’m ready for my carriage to turn back into a pumpkin.”

Ginny gave her that serious look again. “We’re not leaving until you do what you came here to do.”

Hermione opened her mouth to object, but felt a tug on her cape. She looked to her left and saw a little boy with bright blue hair. “Oh, Teddy! How are you?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he lifted a large marshmallow up to her. “S’more.”

Hermione’s smile froze, unsure of what the toddler was trying to say. “What was that?”

“S’more.” He repeated.

“Ahem,” Hermione glanced at the punch bowl where Ginny was watching her. She pointed to the crackers that were sitting right next to one of the small chocolate fountains. “I thought you said you went camping when you were a kid?”

_ Hogwarts. Red hair. Blood. Fire. _

“I try not to think about it.” Hermione ground out, forcing the unwelcome memories into place, hidden far in her mind.

Ginny didn’t respond.

Hermione looked between the crackers, the marshmallow and the fountain. “I’m not sure if this is the best idea. I don’t see anything to roast the marshmallow on.” 

Teddy, however, did. With his free hand, he pointed above Hermione’s head and she finally realized why he had approached her for the snack. “S’more!”

Hermione grinned as Ginny laughed. She quickly set to work in making Teddy the s’more he demanded of her. She had been so focused on not dripping marshmallow into her hair that she didn’t catch Ginny disappear again. Before she could search for her, though, Andromeda joined them.

“Oh, thank goodness! I’ve been looking everywhere for him.” Andromeda scooped her grandson into her arms where his hair turned into a vibrant yellow reflecting the glee he felt. “And where did you get that from, hm?”

Teddy pointed at Hermione with zero hesitation. “‘Mione!”

For the first time since arriving at the manor, Hermione genuinely smiled. “No loyalty at all, I see.” The two women shared a laugh at the joke, just as Narcissa and Draco appeared at Andromeda’s side. 

“Oh, I am so happy to see the little man has been found!” Narcissa gave him a charming smile, but her eyes appeared to nervously flick once, then twice in Hermione’s direction.

The small, nearly insignificant action was enough to remind Hermione where she was and where she stood socially in the Manor. “Excuse me.” Hermione walked away before Andromeda could stop her. Even then, she only made it a few paces before she heard a male voice calling after her.

“Granger - wait!”

Hermione stopped, not turning around, but then she thought of how silly she probably looked. She slowly turned to see that Draco Malfoy was making his way towards her. She tensed as she looked him over.

“It’s been a while,” he said.

Hermione hesitantly agreed, “it has.”

He opened his mouth once, then shut it. When he opened it again, he opted for small talk. ”What are you dressed as?”

“Hades,” she said as she glanced down at her attire. “Ginny is supposed to be my Persephone.”  _ ‘I wouldn’t have to explain that if she would stay with me like she promised.’ _

Draco nodded at that. He looked down at his shoes before looking back up at her. “I’m so sorry. For everything. I never reached out to you before and I should have.”

Hermione felt a wave of emotions hit her but like every other time she felt something that might take her under, she left it to crash against the walls of her fortress. She let nothing and no one, save for Ginny, in. “You and your family were dealing with the aftermath just like we were.” Her eyes drifted behind his shoulder to where Narcissa and Andromeda stood. Narcissa was not just watching them, but  _ wringing _ her wrists. Hermione motioned to Narcissa with her chin. “Even she struggles to let you out of her sight.”

Draco looked over his shoulder at his mother and frowned. “Don’t mind her. She’s been fretting over this event all day.” With a handsomely crooked smile, he put his hands in the air and spoke in a heightened voice to imitate his mother. “ _ Oh, Draco, did you have to invite old enemies and the crazies to your ancestral home?'” _

Something he said didn’t sit well with Hermione and she wanted to grab Ginny to get out of here. “Do you have a quiet room I might be able to lie down in?”

He immediately dropped the act after clearing his voice. “Yes, of course.”

She followed Draco down a closed hallway where he led her to the first room on the left. “Join us when you can.” With a nod, he returned to the party, leaving her all the time she might have needed. Hermione took a deep breath before closing the door without ever setting a foot inside. Glancing over her shoulder to ensure no one saw her, she retreated further down the hall and into the Manor.

Hermione did not want to remember the path to the Drawing Room, but she did. The moment of her torture had been one that would forever be ingrained into her psyche. When her eyes laid upon the dark double doors, she halted. Her heart raced as the light from her crown made her shadow dance.

_ Hogwarts. _

“I can do this,” she breathed.

Hermione crept forward, one arm extended so it could easily wrap around the door knob. When Hermione’s hand touched the cool material, she took a deep breath and threw herself into the room, lest she lose grip on the little bravery she had.

Hermione shivered as she made her way to the middle of the room, to the exact spot where she was tortured. There was one detail about the drawing room that had haunted her: the ceiling was one large mirror. She watched herself be tortured and it sickened her - so Ginny made her promise she would face it.

When Hermione laid on the floor, she wasn’t alone. Ginny was right beside her. “You made it.” Ginny had a serene, almost ethereal smile.

_ Red hair. _

Hermione nodded once. “Can we leave?”

“Not until you let me go.”

Hermione sniffed. “I don’t know what you’re on about.”

“Hermione-” 

Hermione was silent as a tear slipped from her eye and into her hair. She turned her head to look at where Ginny was lying, only to not see her there, so she faced the mirror again - in reflections was the only way she ever saw her. “You promised you wouldn’t leave.”

_ Blood. _

“But she did.” Hermione blinked, only to see she was alone. Talking to herself as, per usual if she was finally going to be honest with herself.

Narcissa was scared to leave her son alone with her because Hermione was seen talking to herself too often - she was the crazy he had attempted to joke about. Her ex-coworkers tried to catch up with her tonight because they had not seen her since she was let go from the Ministry. She was deemed ‘unfit’ to hold the position given to her. Hermione had hallucinated that Ginny was with her, dressed like the goddess Persephone because that was how she had seen her last. Dressed in flowers, as innocent as an angel. 

_ Fire. _

Ginny would have  _ never _ worn such a frilly thing, but Molly had been the one to pick what Ginny’s final outfit would be while Hermione had been given the honor of lighting her pyre. Hermione thought her best friend looked like a stranger. In a way, death had made Ginny a stranger. Hermione didn’t know her late best friend from the image she had conjured up for the past three years anymore.

As the repressed memories tortured her on the Manor floor once more, her crown’s fire died out.


End file.
